On The Run
by Hannah Melto
Summary: She's been running for years, its like second nature to her. Pack up and leave, move to the next town, state, country. She can't go home, not while he is still there, She needs this new life.


**On the Run**

_A Traveler's Regret_

She lay silently on her bed, with her feet on her pillow, above the covers, her head resting on her laptop. As she could feel the heat from her cooling laptop sink into her skin, and pretended for a moment it was someones lap. She wished she could dissolve, sink into the hard plastic and metal and float away as a stream of information, hang in the air unseen, a ghost who is only known by code.

It was all she wanted, to live, but not exist. She often would stare down the barrel of a gun, or tempted a kitchen knife necklace, with no real intent of death. It was a test, to prove that she wanted to live, no matter how hard it was at times. She could not take that step. So she took the next best option, the closest thing to being a ghost, and she ran.

She wished not to be apart of this world, but she enjoyed watching it turn. So much so her feet lead her to all manners of soil. From risky war torn alleyways, to quiet streets of cities at night, who's only company was the patter of rain. She tasted, she smelled, she absorbed to memory the pattern of leaves changing and the light of street lamps. She wanted to live as someone else. Someone who could be. Instead she walked as a ghost, never learning names, nor giving hers. She attempted to erase what was of her to make room for what there was to take in from her surroundings.

Her ear caught the stopping of the fan inside her laptop, it had done its job but the laptop still felt warm on her skin. Most of the excess heat had absorbed into the sheets and her cheek. Her eyes shut, though her mind was far from sleep. Good sleep was rare for her. But, in the luxury of night, she would visit memories. Her life before running.

How long could she keep going, the thought often drifted through her mind. Her money was no question absent from her mind in the answer; she had more then enough to run for 10 lifetimes. What would happen though if she repeated herself, if she found a new street too familiar, if someone she hardly remembered greeted her as an old friend. She sat up, the cool air hitting her left cheek making it yearn even more to return to her artificial warmth. She gazed out the window. The sky was clear, and the cool breeze was welcome given the days previous heat. She leaned out the window watching the few strangers that shuffled by in the night.

Her apartment was sat atop a sports bar on the lower west side of Osaka Japan. It was a bar dedicated to cheering on the local baseball team, the Osaka tigers. Nights, even with no game, were usually loud with cheer practicing and laughter, stretching into the early morning. But tonight was quite, not that she minded the noise. She worked in the shop some nights, to keep rent cheap, but she was far too interesting, and memorable; her golden locks were always conducting attention. She had been to this city once before, and to avoid being recognised, stayed on the other side of town. That is how she worked. She would visit a town and never leave a small area. Once people began to recognise and expect her, she would leave. She had been here for two months this time round.

This wasn't her first time in Japan, she had stayed in Osaka before, a year ago for a month. And two years before that she had spent several months moving from district to district in Tokyo. It's how she picked up Japanese so quickly, there was enough english to get the basics, and the locals were patient enough. Even before her running, a friend of hers had taught her the basics, so when she finally arrived it was easy enough to navigate and absorb the language.

Six years. First the east coast of America for a month, then toronto Canada for three weeks, Irland two months, London England for a month and a half, Wales, The french countryside for three months ( she liked it there, it was so hard to leave ) Germany, spain, Italy, Libya Egypt, Israel, Jordan. A year was spent going through Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, making it to India. She flew to China and spent three months going from village to village before staying a final month in Hong Kong. Then Tokyo, up to Russia, over to Finland Norway Sweden, back to Germany, England, Paris France, around again and again.

She had ideas of where she wished to go next… more of Africa. The tallies made on her home drawn map of the world where slowly taking over. She had no goal in mind, she just needed to keep track of where she had been. In a journal she kept a list, of names and towns, places she lived restaurants she would go to, with the full intent to never return again; to, infact, avoid these things. After all there was still so much to see, even as the binding of the journal fell apart with the addition of extra pages and unposted postcards. She lived a life most would wonder about. She had no income, yet a fair amount of money inherited from her grandfather.

Her grandfather on her mother side was rather wealthy, but disapproving of Big Bob Pataki, which drove Bob up the wall. But he liked Olga and Helga, so when he passed on, a large sum was given to the two of them. Olga bought a house. Helga ran. It was the one gift worthwhile he had ever given. Not because the money itself had value, but because it enabled her to live her ghost life.

She pulled out the journal in question, opening to the back cover, the map scribbled in purple pen. Copied from what was probably one of her old history textbooks. A few post notes on the back pages representing island and areas to small to draw to scale. The map looked spotted with red, say for the U.S.A. (for obvious reasons), the lower half of africa, australia, and South America, where a single tally rested in the center. San Lorenzo.

She had nothing against the colorful and vibrant people that dwelled there, or the beautiful tropics, only that there existed the original of her purpose. The very reason she was running. To run back would be just as good as returning home, it would be a sign of weakness. She marked the tally, and put a wide circle around it, a ten drawn at the rim. Any where within that circle was off limits for at least ten years was defeat.

There was another mark similar to this in the U.S.A. Marking hillwood, a circle, and 20 years. At the bottom of the map her 6 tallies stood. The brightest red, at least to her, her years away from home. She had seen none of the people from that life, say for one. She closed her eyes and brought herself back to that moment three years ago.

"_HELGA!"_

_In the distance a glass was heard shattering. The blond girl, with her bright blond hair, tied in pigtails much like from when she was younger, wearing a maid outfit complete with cat ears and tail, stood frozen. The shattered glass trapped in her vice grip causing blood to leak from her fingers, dripping loudly onto the floor of the now silent room. _

_She said nothing. But the shorter girl with blue framed glasses and short black hair rushed toward her with an alarming pace. A smack bursted across her face. The burst of pain had knocked her out of her daze, alerting her to the pain in her left hand, she released her grip on the broken glass in her hand, most pieces falling to the floor with the rest of the glass, but some staying stuck to her palm by blood. _

" _Phoebe." She let out in a whisper, and was immediately trapped by two small arms, holding her tightly._

"_あかねちゃん大丈夫？" __one of the other maids spoke. And she nodded._

"_はい。彼女は古い仲間である。心配しないで。"_

_The other maid left at this. _

_Phoebe led Helga to the kitchen in back, and began to clean the cuts on her hand, wrapping them up without a word, until she was nearly finished. Helga assumed she had to collect her thoughts._

"_We.. w-we.. all… we all th- we all thought.. that.. you…"_

_She was shaking, like a dead leave ready to fall in a cool autumn wind, frail, weak, cold. _

" _Why?" Phoebe finally looked Helga in the eyes. _

" _You know why."_

_The truth was Phoebe did. In it's root the problem was simple. Helga was running from herself. Sure Arnold near the root of the issue, the unspoken reason she wished to better herself. She ran away because running was so easy to do, then accept the idea that her dreams would never come to pass. If she didn't try, she could not fail. It wasn't the most sound logic, but it was far more safe then the alternative. _

" _I know that you began to hate yourself more and more, because of how you were raised, I remember holding your hand in the hospital after you called me in the middle of the night, with the lightest cut on your neck. But you've been gone… for almost three years, you were missing. We thought you had died. We thought someone had killed and robbed you, or kidnapped you. You didn't send one word."_

" _I wasn't ready for anyone to find me."_

"_Find you?! Helga we just wanted to know you were still alive. Why you couldn't tell us that!? As for your running around, I'm not sure I approve." _

_Phoebe finished her hand and Helga showed her to the back where she began to change back into her street clothing. They left in silence, heading out into the night streets filled with neon lights, creating a rainbow of color on both of there skin. Helga led her down to a quieter street, not too far from the cafe. The city noise began to soften and Phoebe spoke again._

" _Is this really a better life? Do you not miss us at all?"_

" _Of course I do. Phoebe, the people I miss… like you, are the one thing keeping me going. I- I can't go back to that life. It was poison. I could feel hatred and ignorance seeping into my veins. No amount of poetry or therapy could solve the age old question of 'who am I'." _

_They reached Helgas apartment and she let Phoebe in. It was bland, no more than what was needed. It was also small, but the two made themselves comfortable. Helga pulled out some green tea out of her fridge, a favorite of hers since coming here, but Phoebe suggested something stronger. Helga pulled out two beers and handed one to her. It was strange, the two of them hadn't done much drinking before she left. It was an unusual experience, for Helga, to get drunk with your best friend. Probably an experience that should have happened a long time ago. _

" _You've been in Japan this whole time? "_

"_No.. I… Keep moving… I don't spend more than half a year someplace, and even then thats pushing it. I prefer to keep things moving."_

_Helga pulls out the journal, it looks like its seen a few rough days but is in good shape, the map on the inner page still waiting for more and more checkpoints to be made. She sipped her beer nervously while Phoebe's eyes fluttered across the pages text._

" _Wow." Phoebe couldn't help but sound impressed. " You really didn't want to be found."_

" _Nope." _

" _I missed you."_

" _I missed you too."_

" _I'm sure you have quite a lot of stories to tell." Phoebe said flipping through the book. Helga watched her friends eyes flicker along the pages and photos, the notes. _

" _I'm sure you do too." Phoebe just shook her head. _

" _Anything worth telling you, you have to come home for."_

" _I'll see you in at least 17 years then." Phoebe frowned at this, but didn't argue. Helga assumed it was the fact Phoebe knew not to push Helga away, if she really wanted her home._

_Morning came, and Phoebe left. The only information traded for Helga's stories was that Phoebe worked as a translator, and was occasionally in and out of the country. Helga made note of that, Tokyo would be risky to stay much longer, she would have to leave, and if she returned to Japan it would have to be a good distance away. She had promised to not avoid visiting her, but it was a lie. Tokyo was now off limits. _

" _Could you… at least.. write to me?"_

" _I dont…"_

" _You don't have to tell me anything.. just.. some sign you're ok."_

_Helga agreed, and they said goodbye._

After that, Helga would send a postcard as she left the city she had most recently stayed at. This way she would be gone by the time Phoebe got it, and they could still not track her down. At first the postcards were vague, nearly blank or art photos addressed to her friend with nothing but her name signed at the bottom of a blank message. Eventually, something in Helga drove her to expose more and more info. She was still far from running into her again, or anyone coming to find her, but remembering the sad face of her friend made her want to expose more and more info. The postcards soon had a flag of a nation or something representing the country. The message was, if the card was not clear, the country she was in. Then it became the area, then the town or city… slowly but surely giving more and more away.

Helga reached over grabbing the postcard she had bought the other day, it was of the Osaka tigers, a rather large clue to her residence, but she planned to leave tomorrow morning. She had plans to leave for the Philippines, then maybe head down to australia. She needed english speaking people again. Then maybe she would crawl her remaining years through africa before heading to south America.

She scribed 'Osaka' on the back card and signed it. She looked down at the card, the message seemed so cold, something in her fought to say something. She wrote added words around 'Osaka' and made her message

" In Osaka again. Miss you. - Helga"

Better.

With that she relaxed and let her mind drift as sleep washed over her, lapping her into a sense of safety and peace of mind.

The following morning was gray, the baby rays of morning sunlight barely illuminating the cloudy skies. The air felt heavy, and as she took in her laundry from her balcony, she could tell it would rain soon. The clothing was cold from the night air, and she remembered when she was little, and Olga would heat up one of her blankets before bed. It was the only thing she asked for and received from her sister. Though through her years of rebellion she would hardly draw these memories to mind, wanting to hate her sister so desperately, the two had a much stronger bond than she gave credit. The two would confide in each other when they knew their parents would never understand, which was always. Olga looking for criticism, helga looking for praise. She still found herself forming thoughts against her sister, against her better nature. But she could translate these thoughts that her inner mind tried to hide. So in this moment the thought in her head ' I miss having a dryer' translated too ' I miss Olga.'

Helga wasn't sure why these thoughts came through her mind like they did, perhaps it was easier to run if she didn't miss anyone. That a sister or a friend was a reason to go home, but a dryer was just a call of bitter annoyance from a more comfortable life.

She packed most of the close up in a box, a few chosen outfits went into a decent sized backpack. When she had started, items, gifts, nicknacks, clothing for the changing seasons, they all grew too quickly in numbers, and the fact money had been spent or care given in gifts left her with little desire to simply toss these items. She instead had a storage unit open, while she spent some very brief time in California. She had opened it with the instructions that mail would be sent, boxes put away after being checked of anything dangerous, and if additional space was needed, they could add it to her bill. The monthly charge was automatic. As of now she had two and a half units, due to one or two stops resulting in her obtaining a piece of furniture as a gift. Most of the temporary items came with the apartment or she sold, but gifts, she had to keep. She just didn't have the heart to part with something so generous. She supposed, if she ever wanted to stop running, she could settle down in california, and have enough clothing and items to fill an average size apartment. It was a common thought she teased.. she could stop at any moment, but she wouldn't.

She left the box, full of clothing and a few knick knack gifts, at the bottom of the stares, towards the back of the bar. Her apartment had been emptied of everything else a few days ago, sold or donated. She left a note on the box towards the owner, a simple goodbye.

She preferred to leave this way. No hugs goodbye, and no promises of return to break. She would just leave, like she left Hillwood, like she left everyone else. She placed her key on top of the box, with the postcard to be sent, and headed out.

The rain had yet to fall, and had managed to hold its place in the sky until she boarded the train and made it halfway to the airport. Customs was a sinch, she had ran into a familiar face, who was there the last time she went through customs, she checked her notebook.. Takahira san. Wife, one son, loves baseball. She made pleasant small talk, and he had seemed enthused to see her again. He had admitted to being concerned for her from time to time, and she was greeted with a face she had come to know, not necessarily pity, but a sad caring face. She knew this look before she left Hillwood, it had been the reason she left Hillwood, and now it was everywhere.

It seemed, more often than not, that her frequent flying with no real plan in mind other than how long, had raised some suspicion. Helga found early on, that discretion, was not advised. She told her story, the run away, the horrible parents, escaping her past and re inventing herself; if they had yet to be convinced she brought up a forlorn love. This was the hardest to talk about, but it often sealed the deal. No one seemed to want to put the sad girl through much more trouble. Often advice was given, and ignored. She understood the kindness, but the advice was just for the sake of giving, they had no insight to her.

Or him.

They traded a few stories while a new officer poured through her bag seriously, a few scolding looks to his senior who, in his opinion, wasn't doing his job. The two parted with a handshake and Helga headed off for her gate.

DELAYED.

Helga let out a long, long, exaggerated sigh. She could probably add up the time spent at airports to at least a month by now, because of these reasons. If it was delayed, there was still a chance it could take off. Surely it wasn't because of the light drizzle from outside. There must have been some delays at the last runway, and now its just late.

She sat down in a chair at the gate, pulling her legs up into the chair, her bag resting in the chair next to her. She pulled out her headphones, and EwPhone, scanning the EwTunes for music, might as well get some new tunes before she goes to the Philippines. Which she was almost sure had a lack of wifi. It was one of her clear parts on the map, and she was excited to visit somewhere untouched by her. The excitement bubbled up into planning. She would spend three months there, starting in the capital Manila. Capital cities, she found, were a great place to start. The first would be in a hotel, learning and practicing the language, then she would get a job if she could, and a place to stay. Later on her revisits she would move towards the country and smaller towns and villages.

It would be three hours, according to the displays, until boarding calls. Usually Helga would get up and explore, but waking up so early she decided to catch those few hours of sleep she missed the night befor. She couldn't fall asleep completely, the position of her legs put pressure on her chest, and she felt the armrest digging into her back as she curled up in the chair; but she could feel her mind slip into a simple rest, only aware of the music playing in her ears and somewhere in the distance, under the melody, someone calling her name.

It was soft, compared to the music, but sounded frantic, in her sleepy mind she placed the noise being far away, perhaps an old memory come out to play. Seconds felt like hours drifting as she listened to it call out along the lyrics, getting closer and closer.

Just when it had reached its loudest and her tired mind was making the attempts to recall said memory, it stopped. She missed the voice immediately, after using so many names through the years it had been a while since her name was used with such feeling, since it had rung so clear in her mind. The last time was with Phoebe, and even then the quiet girl had not said her name much. Helga assumed it was hard for her, three years spent shouting a name and then it could no longer be said in a whisper.

"_Helga"_

The voice sounded again, quite, soft spoken, as if it had read her mind. She felt herself sigh at the memory.

Until all of a sudden the music cut out of one ear replaced by the chatter of the airport around her and a cool breeze from the missing earbud.

Helga opened her eyes in a shock at this sudden awakening and was met with a tall man, with blond messy hair that rested on his oblong head. The outline of these features alone sent Helga jumping up with a start, falling over her chair into the one placed back to back with her own. In her tumble she could hear the man cry out, and run around to check to see if she was ok, but by the time he had got to her side she was standing. She spotted him again and without looking away, grabbed her backpack, turned, and ran.

Her mind felt like it was burning, and she felt nauseous. From the tumble or just waking up she couldn't tell. Her eyes were blurry and she batted her eyelids trying desperately to focus, but all she was met was the sensation of tears, hot, running down her cheek.

Music still sounded from one ear, as the other bud hug, batting against her chest as she ran. She could hear him calling out of the one ear, he was getting closer. She had manage to hoist the bag on her shoulder and ducked away at a random turn. She was met with a long hallway, she darted down till she recognised a sign designating stares and proceeded to whip the door open and almost glide down the steps with the fast pace of her feet. Just as she reached the door a figure fell in front of her, crouching to absorb the shock from the landing, but almost instantly regaining itself, standing up, and locking Helga into a tight embrace. As she felt the arms wrap tightly around her she let out a small yelp, of surprise, and pain as she felt an object in her bag dig into her ribs. The arms did not loosen. She tried to squirm out of the snaring arms but the grip only got tighter. the other bud had been knocked from her ear, so all she could hear now were the man panting, out of breath, and her music still playing from the distance earpieces. The grip remained ever tight, and Helga gave up wiggling, the object, which she presumed was her journal, was digging more and more into her ribs, another cry escaped her lips; not just of pain but sadness. The man released his grip, pulling back, but a hand held onto her arm firmly, allowing no escape. She looked into the mans eyes, bright green but tired, shinning only half as much, framed by dark baggy eyes which were now growing puffy and read with tears. He was crying. His hand came to her face and she felt a stray tear be wiped from her cheek. Her eyes were locked on his expression, theath grit restraining sobs, eyes starting to squint to restrain tears, or perhaps he was trying to get a better look. Perhaps his eyes were as blurry as hers.

She felt her heart racing, weather it was from the running or the encounter it was hard to tell, but it was slamming against the inside of her ribcage; trying to run so desperately. Her mind was so busy exploring the situation that she realised that neither had spoken. He just stayed there, panting, one hand holding her arm, the other hand holding her cheek; and she just watched him, waiting.

Finally she realised that he might be too out of breath, or too trapped in thoughts, and she dug deep for something to say.

" Hey there… Football head." she cringed, at the words, at the painful sound of them. They had been coupled with a choke of sorrow, and what sounded like a dry unused voice. But his gritted just turned into what almost looked like a smile, before his eyes shut completely, tears streaming down his face. He hugged her again, around the neck and shoulders, hiding his face but trying to be as gentle as he could. It was still too tight, and Helga could understand the difficulty of restraint. She relaxed completely, allowing her bag to drop slowly down her arm and plop onto the floor. Where she let go and then returned the hug.

"Arnold."

The hug had lasted quite a while, until Helga was finally able to break away with the promise of some coffee and a talk. They walked in silence to a small cafe Helga had noticed earlier on the way to her gate. She carefully picked a small table away from prying eyes, knowing all too well what was about to unfold was going to be personal. The waitress took their orders, Helga ordering for Arnold, who had decided to only stare at her, not saying a word. Helga fully knew exactly what he wanted the next words out of his mouth to be. All she could do was avoid eye contact till the drinks arrived and they would be graced with a lack of disturbance for a long enough time…

" Why?"

Helga sighed. Apparently he was in no mood for waiting. She looked at him, tired shaking, stiff. She had yet to remark on how he now stood taller than her, not towering, but taller than when she had last seen him, it being now ever more clear as he hunched over slightly trying to keep eye contact with Helga at her level.

" You know why."

" No, I don't think I do."

Silence.

"How did you find me?"

"First tell me why?" His eyebrows knitted and a frown graced his face, turning a look of disbelief to the brink of rage.

" I think it would be easer i-"

" I want to know Helga!" he slammed his hands on the table, there was a clatter of utensils and cups, which Had now realised was the work of the waitress who had began to set down there order. The poor girl had obviously jumped back at Arnolds outburst, but quickly regained herself, quickly finishing the job and scurrying off. Helga watched her go. Poor girl, she'd have to leave a good tip to make up for that fright.

"Helga." The sadness in his voice brought her back to the sight of his face, and the look of it almost broke her heart. " Why?"

"I- I didn't like me."

Arnold stayed silent, waiting for her to explain further, although she noticed he already looked confused.

" The anger, the seething rage waiting to bubble up and great anyone who gave me pity, kindness. I was weak, and scared, and scared about being weak and scared. And that fear drove me to be horrible to people. I tried changing, I tried so hard to change myself back home, but It was too hard. People knew me too well, I needed a fresh start."

She paused, noticing his shoulders relax, but his gaze was still fixed on her.

" If I had told anyone, where I was going or what I was doing, I would have been met with nothing but resistance. I love everyone…"

She noticed this caught him by surprise.

"... So dearly. But everyone was just a reminder to me of who I was, I couldn't see who I could be, who I wanted to be."

" So you ran from us." his voice sounded so betrayed, but you could see his regret, as his mouth moved with no words, only now looking away, trying to form an apology.

" Yes. I left all of you, with no word. I know it was wrong, and nothing I can do will ever erase that, but its not a mistake, and I don't regret it."

His eyes found her again, sad, but he didn't protest.

" That house, my family, that city, everything outside that made me who I was, was poison." Arnold opened his mouth. " Yes, you were too." His mouth closed, eyes shooting down. She noticed how he gripped his napkin.

" But in a different way." She reached her hand across the table, touching his. His body gave a joldt but he didn't move, his hand slowly relaxing. Helga stayed focused on his hand, not wanting to look at him as she continued, instead focusing on softly stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

" To me, you, Phoebe, my sister, you were like strawberries. My body just rejected you for all the wrong reasons. You were the sweetest of poisons." She smiled. "But it was still dangerous for me to be around you. And I felt, that my lashing out was destroying you-"

" Helga it wasn-" he had grabbed her hand and replicated the stroking, less gentle, a bit more rapid, but all the more calming. His hands shaking, holding hers.

" I know. The very idea though, made it ten thousand times worse for me. I couldn't hurt the few good things that I had in my life.

" I ran… and I'd do it again. And I'll be honest, it's come to a point that… I'm not sure if I can stop. I'm too scared to go back, to revert back into that monster girl." Arnolds grip tightened but he stayed quiet. " I'm finding out so much about myself. By revisiting memories on my own terms, by dealing with stuff on my own. I can breath out here Arnold."

Arnold's breath hitched. The stroking of his thumb stopped and Helga caught a few people looking their way out of the corner of her eye. To them, they must seem like lovers. Helga sighed at that thought, six years ago she would be swooning over the shedded tears, the heart felt hugs, the gentle hand touchies. She didn't love him any less. Quite the opposite. One of the reasons, that she had failed to bring up, was her wanting to stop loving him. The hopes that proximity to his charm was laying waste to her mind, and the further away she got, the clearer her head would be. And it was clear, but not in the way she hopped. Her dramatic swooning and poetic verses stopped, but the actions he had made towards her, the way he could stare into her soul, that remained true. She had hoped she would grow to no longer love him, but she only grew to really understand why. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive. Even now disheveled and resembling an old wooden shack about to fall over from the smallest breeze she could see the structure of a handsome face, and the foundation of that face that she had loved so dearly. To distract herself she glanced quickly over across the hallway from the airport cafe. She could barely make out the sign, but her flight was still delayed by two hours. They had plenty of time.

" But I miss you." It was the softest mumble, but It caught her attention. She let out a sigh.

" I miss you too." He looked up, as if he was about to break down crying again. But he held it in.

" We've got more then enough time to talk before my flight leaves. So spill." She pulled her hand back and began munching on the small sandwiches they had ordered, the bread starting to get stale. She already missed his hand, though it was clammy and drenched in sweat." What are you doing here?"

" Looking for you."

" But how on earth did you know I was here? I haven't even sent Phoebes card yet?"

" On a hunch… a lot of hunches as of late actually. Phoebe told me about the cards three years ago, and I started following them looking for you. She would send me your updates, every detail of the card. I was trying to figure out where you would be. You started showing a pattern. Nothing fancy just… back and forth." Arnold made the motion with his hands. He reached for a sandwich, and began nibbling on it. " And the time spent at places.. two months, three months, two weeks, one month, two months, three…" He started taking bigger bites, swigging larger sipps of the lukewarm coffee.

" And it would have to do with language. Two weeks in a place that speaks english. One month in a english/native tongue, then you would move to a country you've been too, with a completely different language but I'm guessing you had picked up some of it so you were ok. And then a completely new country."

" I didn't know I hit a pattern.. I just sorta went with it."

" Well you showed the journal to phoebe at first and It seemed like that was the case.. She memorized where you had gone and how long and we tried to figure a pattern but there was none.. not till after a few cards.

" I'd follow you, with an old photo, asking around at airports, local hotels around the area, cab services. I tried to see if you had said anything about where you were going. Then I started to get bold, making jumps on my own, asking around at airports and then moving like that. Osaka was a hunch. Phoebe said you fit in well in Japan, and when I had talked to Takahira last, he said he gave you some advice when you came back."

"Takahira… of course.. he told me about the sports bar."

" Yeah.. but you didn't go to that one. Ran me around good. I visited just about everyone I could find."

" I went to the other side of town, no where near the one he suggested, I didn't want to run into him. I found a super tiny one. Only the locals knew about it."

" I think you are a little too good at a running away." He chuckled, the first laugh she had heard from him. It warmed her heart and she smiled in return.

" I knew you were near the end though, and you would leave soon, so I booked a flight super early to get into the airport and hopped I could meet you before boarding. I kept checking in with Takahira. And when he said he had saw you I ran."

Helga was stunned.

" Where on earth did you get the money to follow me? You said you just got a ticket to get in and then… what… missed the flight?"

" Your dad is funding me."

" My dad?!"

" When you left.. it destroyed your parents. Arguments, divorce, Olga not speaking to them, the whole nine yards. Your parents knew they were at fault for part of it. So your mom started going to AA and got a job as a secretary down town, she lives on her own. And your dad got a business partner to help manage things so he could have some spare time to look for you. They all did, look for you I mean. Olga tried but then got too scared to find out if you were dead, she keeps updated though with Phoebe now that we know you're alive, and has accepted you need to decide to come home on your own."

Helga smiled at this.. her sister always seemed to get her as easy as playing piano. It was a natural sister gift.

" Before the cards, your mother gave up after two years, she said it was making her want to drink again, that she would leave it to Bob. That was the fight that broke them up for good of course. And Bob only gave up just before the cards. and even then he couldn't bring himself to face you. So he funded me, cause I refused to sit still…" Arnold grabbed her hand again. " without answers."

" Well you got them.. so now what?"

" 'Why?', was just one of my questions."

" Arnold…"

" Helga."

There it was again. Her name spoken with such care, you would think he was choosing his final words.

" You've got two hours of my time. Then I will go to the Philippians and then the next flight somewhere else.." She would die her hair if she has too.. maybe she would fly back to Japan.. throw him off the trail. Spend a whole year in kyoto.

" So I've got two hours?"

" Yes."

" Then all honesty has to come out on the table."

Helga just nodded.

The promise hours were spent trading stories, Shared experiences through traveling. Arnold had been on the road, everywhere she had been and more, for the past three years. He two would work, but differently than Helga had been. He worked as a freelance graphic designer. He would work online with clients in his spare time, when he wasn't Helga hunting, and was fairly good at it. He had, in the longer stays, even worked with local places establishing some good connections in the area. He, like Helga, had always had a gift for art. Helga noticed his lack of bags, and he confessed that they were back at the hotel. If he couldn't find her he would regroup, if he could, and he did, he would convince her to stay a bit longer. But Helga had made her point ferm already in the matter, so Arnold didn't bring it up say for that point. Helga guessed he didn't want to push her away, he was smart.

The conversation grew lighter, though as it was nearing the end of the two hours she began to notice a rather tense, nervous side of Arnold. It wasn't new. Infact, Arnold would often get like this when she was with him before she left. It was unexplainable. For a dim moment, before leaving, she had pondered if his nerves reflected some sort of feelings towards her, but she dashed the thought away. The idea alone was too painful, and she knew how he acted when he was in love all too well from there 4th grade days. She felt her heart clenching. Those nerves, he was still afraid of her. There were moments when he seemed at ease, but others when he looked as though he would scream if she even touched him. His eyes would wander, he would fidget. She had hoped that in spending time he wouldn't, that he could see how she has changed, so she could see her change in his eyes. But this obviously was not the case, and it made Helga want to run even more. She took the time to recognise his clothing. He was wearing simple button down shirt and jeans, she took note it was buttoned a tad high for not wearing a tie, but shrugged the thought off. He had a simple watch around his left wrist and a gold bracelet with a green stone in the center on his right. It was a simple gold band, but the stone shone so brilliantly. A gift from the green eyes. Helga would know. Back with Phoebe for safe keeping. At first she had traveled with it, but the bright trinket drew too much attention, so when she ran into Phoebe, she had given the small gift for safe keeping. "_until I come home." _but she had never intended to see it again. During the conversation he had noticed it's disappearance and to his relief she had explained. The Bracelets were a matching pair for them. After saving his parents from the jungle and stopping the evil river pirate that lurked in the rainforest surrounding the Green Eyes village, they had been awarded with the highest gift. Arnold had called them friendship bracelets, and at the time Helga couldn't have been happier. It was because he had given the matching bracelet to her and not Gerald, his best friend, who in her opinion put just as much effort into the mission. But Arnold was convinced otherwise, and she obtained her reward. That adventure had happened so long ago, when they were ten. She had left when she was 21, it having been 6 years since would make that 17 years ago. Such a long time.

They payed for lunch, both opting on a big tip for the trouble caused, and then the pair slowly made their way back to her gate. As they arrived it looked as if they still hadn't begun boarding, there was still time, he still had her time. But she just wanted to run, she hated goodbyes, she couldn't stand them. And now….

"Attention passengers-" an announcement started, and Helga prayed it was for boarding call, she strained her ears to hear but her eyes never left Arnold. He was looking so.. intently at her. Then he leaned forward swiftly and kissed her. Nothing too long, a simple kiss, lasting a second. His hand had returned to the same place it had befor, hours earlier when he had caught her, but his other hand stayed firmly at his side. He didn't want to keep her, he wanted her to decide to stay.

"Please don't go."

In that moment, she didn't. She wanted to stay, to understand more. But if she gave in, what next. She need a sign, something, something in the universe to tell her to stay, and if all stayed quiet she would run. She closed her eyes.

"I-" she started until a large flash came from the windows, followed by a boom of thunder. And then she could hear what the announcement was saying.

"I repeat, flight 783 to the Philippines has been canceled. フィリピンへのフライト783はキャンセルされました。"

Helga let out a shuttered breath, more of a surprised noise really. Arnold didn't say anything, he just grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the exit.

"Wait! Wait! I didn't… Just because… would you stop pulling so hard Criminy!"

At that last word he pulled her arm harder but he himself had stopped walking, she fell against him and felt both of his hands trap her face, pulling her in for another kiss. This one much longer, filled with passion that had been residing in them for years. Before her eyes shuttered closed she could see his expression, eyebrows knitted up, pleading almost, as his lips moved against hers. There teeth scraping gently against each others plump sore lips as they took shuttered breaths and opened their mouths to let each other explore the new territory.

Helga still stood tense, her mind and instincts at war. On one hand her mouth gave into Arnolds implied demands, she gave into his charm and desires, while falling into her own. But her body was still aware, it knew that this weakness, that giving in, would doom her. But would it really. Her fears and concerns began to melt into this whole new world, where he was again her light. His thumb stroked her cheek, coaxing her to relax, and she did.

Her arms tangled in his messy hair and she held him there in place, getting a good grip before diving in, attacking him back with so much held back love she was surprised she didn't tackle him to the floor. His arms slid from her face to around to the small of her back, gripping tightly and lifting her off the ground. She felt her legs swinging, as the world seemed to turn and she let go of his hair, instead hugging around his neck, breaking the kiss to laugh in delight. Arnold stopped spinning and set her down lightly.

" Lets go on a date." he announced, and continued to lead a flabbergasted Helga through the airport. This time side by side.

_**A/N**_

_**I Had originally planned for this to be a longer. But I couldn't get past this point and this felt like a good enough ending. I may add another chapter or part on in the future, but I just had to get this out there before I keep forgetting about it. Enjoy!**_


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